


asking for a friend

by coslyons



Series: The Corvid Apartment [3]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Shapeshifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 14:50:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18640324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coslyons/pseuds/coslyons
Summary: Theo likes getting under people’s skin. Sometimes he goes too far.





	asking for a friend

**Author's Note:**

> Marcus and Nikolai belong to my friend Kat. Marcus is a lythari elf gunslinger, so he’s a Russian werewolf who looks like Lee Pace. Nikolai is a human noble who looks like Chiwetel Ejiofor.
> 
> Theo is a changeling rogue whose previous persona was named Lila.

Theo was a naturally curious person. He couldn’t help it. He liked collecting pieces of people to figure out how they ticked. It’s what made him good at clockwork, and it’s what made him a bit of a rogue. People liked talking to him about curiosity and cats, but Theo figured that answers were always worth more than silly proverbs. 

He’d had a chance to investigate the other party members some time ago, but Marcus had been scrupulously careful around Theo ever since he’d joined the party. Marcus rarely let Theo out of his sight, like he didn’t trust Theo not to cause mischief if left unattended for even the slightest moment. Those few times where Marcus did deign to leave Theo alone, he was locked away in his room, which made it impossible to go through his belongings properly.

Today, though, Marcus had left to go see a man about a dog or something. The specifics didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Theo expected at least two uninterrupted hours to investigate. Theo walked down the hall to Marcus’s room and casually tried the door.

Locked, of course. Theo expected nothing less.

Theo glanced up and down the hall, listening carefully for any sign of his fellow party members. Nothing. Perfect. He knelt down in front of the door and pulled out his lockpicks. He had three of the four pins set when the tension wrench slipped in his grasp. Theo swore under his breath and reset the pins. Finally, the lock clicked and the door swung open.

Marcus’s room had a lived-in vibe, with dirty clothes on the floor and the bed unmade. The sheets on the bed were tangled and mussed. Theo felt like a voyeur just looking at it. He walked closer. He laid down, his head resting in the divot left by Marcus’s head in the pillow. The sheets smelled musty, unwashed. 

He stood up and wandered toward the center of the room. Marcus’s bag was leaning up against the footboard of the bed. Theo checked for traps even though he wasn’t sure Marcus was clever enough to have thought to boobytrap it. Satisfied that things probably wouldn’t blow up in his face, Theo grabbed the bag and moved behind the desk in the corner, careful not to shift the contents of it. 

The inside of the bag smelled like Marcus, cordite and musk. From the surface, it looked to be fairly typical. Right on top was a box of bullets and a bottle of gun oil. He removed things layer by layer, inspecting each one and then laying them aside as he rummaged further into Marcus’s bag. He found spare shirts, extra socks, and clean pairs of underwear; a set of tinker’s tools, although Marcus’s were made of mild steel instead of Theo’s more delicate brass tools; a tinderbox and some torches; empty bullet casings and a stiff leather horn filled with loose gunpowder. 

At the bottom of Marcus’s things was a small, weatherproofed bag. Theo took a moment to memorize how the cord was knotted before he untied it. He reached into the bag and pulled out a silver pocket watch. It seemed to have wound itself down while in the bag, because Theo couldn’t hear the gears inside ticking. He flicked it open, and saw a photograph of a man opposite the cracked glass of the watch face. 

The man’s face was handsome, his dark skin crinkling around warm, dark eyes. His lips curved like a hunter’s bow, elegant and lush with his half-smile. Theo felt the skin on his face ripple as he rolled around the feeling of the man’s features in his mind. He tried on the expression, too: a pinched eyebrow sort of smile that was sad and happy at the same time. Theo touched the edge of the photograph and tried to imagine the kind of person that might wear that face.

He would be kind, obviously. Maybe a little soft spoken. The clothes were elegant and refined, cut to the fashion of a previous century, so the man was probably a lord or a prince or something. He was handsome enough that’d he’d be likeable regardless, but the shadows under his eyes said that he spent a lot of sleepless nights taking care of his people. A man who wore his power with enough gentle strength to carry the worries of his kingdom and then some.

Satisfied he’d gotten the right sort of persona, Theo went to put the watch bag into the bag, only to realize that there was a folded piece of paper on the inside, yellowed and delicate with age. He set aside the watch and took the paper out of the bag. He unfolded it with careful hands. It was a letter addressed to Marcus, written in a looping and strong hand. Theo skipped down to the signature at the bottom.  _ Nikolai _ . 

Theo raised an eyebrow. Marcus had never mentioned a Nikolai before. He went back to the first line of the letter and began to read. He finished the letter. Read it again. Lingered over the signature. Over the ‘Always yours, Nikolai’. 

“Well that certainly explains some things,” Theo muttered to himself.

He folded up the letter with gentle hands. Just as he was about to put the letter back into the weatherproofed bag, the door on the other side of the room opened quickly and then slammed shut. Theo crouched low to the ground on the other side of the writing desk. 

Marcus stepped into the room quickly, the floorboards creaking under him. His footsteps slowed, and Theo noticed that he’d left the pile of clothing visible from the door. He took a brief moment to kick himself before Marcus’s footsteps veered towards the corner of the room where Theo was hiding. 

Theo curled into the footwell of the writing desk. The footsteps stopped. He could see the shadow of Marcus’s boots in the crack between the bottom of the desk and the floor. His muscles tensed, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. He barely breathed. 

The footsteps walked away. Theo sighed silently, and relaxed his tense muscles. In a flash, Marcus stormed around the desk and pulled Theo out from under the desk by the front of his shirt. Seams creaked.

“Hello there, Marcus.” Theo smiled his most winning smile. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Marcus growled, and the hair on Theo’s neck and arms stood on end. His gaze fixed on Theo’s hands. Theo followed his eyes and saw that he was still holding the letter.

“So, about that—”

Marcus grabbed Theo by the throat. The claws pricked into the sides of his throat as he growled and slammed Theo into the wall. The back of Theo’s head thudded heavily against the wood panelling, hard enough that he knew there’d be a knot there later. Theo could feel a light trickle of blood down the side of his neck. He took a struggling breath against the hand against his throat. That was fine; Theo had never been afraid of a little corps-à-corps in his bouts. He took a wild stab, hoping to hit something soft.

“I knew a girl once. A changeling girl. She went by Lila then. No telling who she is now.” He licked his lips and sneered at Marcus. “She lost the love of her life for being a monster too.”

Marcus slammed him back against the wall again. “You keep him out of this, you faceless freak.”

Sensing a wound, Theo pushed further. “What, upset by the truth? Monsters don’t get happy endings. Every child knows that.” 

His voice trailed off as Marcus pressed harder and harder against his throat until Theo could do nothing but gasp. A flash of fear passed over Theo. Marcus’s face was hard, and Theo knew with absolute certainty that Marcus would keep squeezing until Theo was dead. He began to struggle in earnest, but he couldn’t seem to break Marcus’s hold. Running out of air and options, Theo did the only thing he could think to do: Theo shifted into the man in the photograph.

Marcus’s face softened for an instant, and he loosened his grip enough for Theo to break his hold and hop to the other side of the writing table. In the very next moment, Marcus’s face was hard with anger, his mouth nothing but a pinched, thin line.

“Give back his face, you devil.”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

Still, he decided to wear his own face again. It would be easier to see the damage on paler skin. Theo wiped his hand against the streaks of blood on his neck, and gingerly touched the place on his throat he knew would be one big bruise tomorrow.

“Besides,” Theo said, backing towards the door, “wouldn’t you like it if I were to say”—he makes the words a breathier version of Marcus’s accent—“‘Oh Marcus, I love you so much’ while wearing his face?”

The expression on Marcus’s face crystallized from anger to pure, unadulterated rage, and Theo realized that he had massively miscalculated. He made a dash for the door, but just as he got there, Marcus came up behind him and pressed the door closed again.

Theo tried to cut towards the window, figuring he could handle a fifteen foot drop if it came down to it, but Marcus grabbed his wrist. Theo pulled against him, but couldn’t budge his grip. 

Marcus wrenched Theo’s arm back behind his back and pushed his face into the wall. He leaned his weight against Theo, causing Theo’s shoulder to protest painfully as his face was forced against the wall.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

“I usually do.” It felt weird to talk without moving half his face, but Theo wasn't about to let that stop him. “Not so much at the moment, I’ll grant you.”

Marcus leaned close to whisper in Theo’s ear, “I’ll kill you, and I won’t even feel bad about it.”

Theo shifted his weight against the bulk of Marcus’s body and felt Marcus’s cock twitch against his ass. He laughed, a strained, choked thing. “Yes, I can see that you’re quite ready to impale me on your sword.”

He ground back for emphasis, and Marcus slammed him into the wall again.

“Fuck’s sake! Look, I’m just saying that you could kill me for going through your stuff, or you could fuck me and pretend it’s him. Pretend it’s Nikolai.”

Marcus froze, tangibly tensing. It was the first time either of them had said the name out loud, and it seemed like that name had cast a spell over Marcus. He pressed Theo against the wall one more time for emphasis then backed off.

Theo shook out his arm and watched Marcus pacing agitatedly around the room. He brought a hand down to one of his daggers just in case Marcus decided to rush him again. Marcus whirled towards him, and Theo tensed. 

A tense moment passed, and then another.

Finally, Marcus’s shoulders slumped, and he said, defeatedly, “Alright.”

Theo waited for a beat.

“Well? Get on with it.” Marcus’s voice was a low growl that made the hairs on the back of Theo’s neck stand on end. 

Never looking away from Marcus’s face, Theo shifted back into the man—into Nikolai. Marcus was looking somewhere over Theo’s left shoulder, refusing to make eye contact. 

Theo walked up to him cautiously. He could see Marcus’s eyes following him across the room, but that was the only sign Marcus gave that he was paying attention. He stepped into Marcus’s personal space, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off of him. 

Theo leaned his head up, curious about how it would feel to kiss the scar on Marcus’s lip, but Marcus’s hand pushed back against Theo’s chest.

“No kissing,” he said gruffly.

“Right. Of course.”

Marcus shifted his hand from Theo’s chest to his shoulder, and pushed down. Following the motion, Theo fell fluidly to his knees with his hands in his lap. He looked up. Marcus loomed over him, beautiful and terrible. Theo swallowed against his suddenly dry throat.

“Marcus—”

“Shhhh. Don’t talk.”

Marcus loosely wrapped his hand around Theo’s throat, a wordless threat. He swallowed again, and felt his throat bob against Marcus’s fingers. Theo looked up at Marcus, intentionally arching his neck into Marcus’s grasp.

Marcus’s hand cupped his jaw as Marcus ran a thumb over Theo’s—Nikolai’s—mouth. His thumb snagged at the soft inside of Nikolai’s lower lip, pulled it down. Nikolai opened his mouth and gently bit down on the tip of it. When Marcus hooked his thumb into the corner of Nikolai’s mouth, he sucked on it, a foreshadowing of what was to come.

Marcus pulled his fingers out of Nikolai’s mouth, and placed the spit damp hand on the back of Nikolai’s neck. He pulled Nikolai towards the swell of his cock. Nikolai went easily, and he rested his head in the hollow of Marcus’s hip. Under his cheek, Nikolai could feel the rush of blood and a heartbeat that was getting faster. He nuzzled at the growing press of Marcus’s cock through his trousers. 

When Marcus shifted his weight, Nikolai reached up to unbuckle Marcus’s belt. The metal buckle clinked as he slid it open to reveal the lacing on the front of Marcus’s trousers. The laces were pulled taut by the swell of Marcus’s cock, and so Nikolai’s fingers brushed against the length of him as he loosed the laces enough to pull Marcus out of his trousers.

He was only half hard, the foreskin still keeping the head of his cock covered. Nikolai held the base of it and sucked the tip of it into his mouth. He hollowed his cheeks as he sucked it further into his mouth. He rolled Marcus’s balls in his hand. Nikolai’s felt the cock in his mouth twitch and harden, growing in his mouth. He pulled back a little and traced the vein running along the bottom of it with his tongue. 

Nikolai licked his way back to the tip, and swallowed it down. Slick sounds filled the room as Nikolai bobbed his head shallowly on Marcus’s cock, his hand stroking up to meet his mouth. Marcus’s cock was a heavy weight on Nikolai’s tongue, and the salty-bitter taste of pre-come filled his mouth.

He pulled away and mouthed at the growing knot at the base of Marcus’s cock. Marcus groaned, deep and pained sounding. Nikolai wanted to smirk, but instead he went back to swallow Marcus as deeply as he could.

He sunk down slowly, the thick length of Marcus stretching Nikolai’s mouth wide. Finally, the tip of Marcus’s cock rested gently against the back of his throat. Nikolai slid the cock out of his mouth, and as he went to swallow Marcus back down, Marcus stopped him. 

Nikolai waited.

Marcus rested a firm hand on the back of Nikolai’s neck and said, “Relax your throat.”

Something inside of Nikolai went a little shivery at the low growl of Marcus’s voice. He looked up through his lashes. Marcus thrust forward, his cock hitting the back of Nikolai’s throat. Tears instantly sprang to his eyes as he gagged. He had to pull away to cough and to catch his breath again, but the punishing grip on the back of his neck didn’t let him go far. Marcus stroked the divot behind Nikolai’s ear with his thumb before pushing Nikolai back towards his cock.

This time, Nikolai knew what to expect, so when Marcus slid his cock back into Nikolai’s mouth, it went smoothly in until his lips were stretched tightly over the knot at the base. Marcus held him there for a long moment, bringing his other hand to rest on Nikolai’s collarbone, his fingertips digging into the tight muscle where neck met shoulder. 

Finally, he began to move: first little thrusts, then more powerful ones. Nikolai stroked his hands up the front of Marcus’s thighs, and squeezed the tight muscles bunching under his fingers. Marcus sped up, his thrusts becoming more erratic until he thrust deep and stilled.

Marcus curled over Nikolai and came with a pained, stuttering cry. The acrid and bitter taste of come flooded Nikolai’s mouth. He pulled back, and a thick spurt of it landed on his lower lip. His tongue darted out to catch it. Looking upwards, he made a performance of swallowing. Marcus’s eyes burned into his own, and Nikolai swayed on his knees.

A long moment later, Marcus abruptly pulled away, leaving Nikolai feeling cold and restless. As Marcus walked over to the window in the corner of the room, Nikolai stayed on the floor. The skin on his face rippled as he became Theo again. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. Theo knew he looked wrecked: his mouth felt swollen and sloppy and his hair was musse from where Marcus had been touching him.

Theo stood slowly, knees aching from kneeling on the bare floor for so long. He winced as his knees cracked and his spine popped. His shoulder ached from where Marcus had wrenched it earlier, but a quick check revealed that it still moved like it should. He wiped his hands off on his shirt and adjusted himself in his trousers. With a glance towards Marcus, Theo walked towards the door, ready to leave.

“Theo,” Marcus said.

Theo paused at the threshold. His hands felt a little antsy, so he tapped a bit at the door frame. Marcus seemed to be struggling with his words as he stared out the window.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he said finally. 

Theo let the words sit for a moment, before he responded, “Of course not.”

He was nearly out the door again when Marcus said, “And Theo?”

“Yes?”

Marcus turned towards him. “The next time you break in, I really will kill you.”

The blank look on Marcus’s face convinced Theo more than the words. Theo smiled, though he knew it was just another facsimile. “I would expect nothing less.”


End file.
